Fright Night
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: Jonathan Crane, otherwise known as the Scarecrow, has everything he could ever want in life, and his first Halloween with his family promises to be the best of his life. But family can be a trick as much as a treat, and Scarecrow's plans for a Halloween scheme are swiftly derailed when his wife receives some unexpected news...
1. Chapter 1

**Fright Night**

Her name had been Ashley Whittaker. And she had been the most beautiful girl in the whole school, every teenage schoolboy's dream. Physically, anyway, but that was primarily what most teenage schoolboys were interested in. She was slim and pretty, with large blue eyes and full red lips and long, blonde hair, and she knew how to dress to reveal her considerable assets to full effect, without coming across as too free with them.

He had met her in the days before he had given up hope, and he had dreamed of winning her for himself. As Valentine's Day approached, he had sent her anonymous bouquets of flowers and gifts, all signed _From Your Secret Admirer_. Ashley had been thrilled with them, and began asking everyone in the school if they knew who her secret admirer was. Soon the whole school was abuzz with rumors, but no one ever guessed it was him.

On the morning of Valentine's Day, he stood in front of her locker, holding two things behind his back. "Good morning, Ashley," he said, as she arrived.

"Oh…good morning," she said. "What can I do for you, Johnny?"

"I just wanted to give you this," he said, handing her a sealed envelope. "From your secret admirer."

Ashley beamed. "Oh wow, do you know who he is?" she asked, tearing open the envelope and extracting the card from inside. "Maybe today he'll finally let me know…"

She trailed off as she read the message inside: _Your Secret Admirer is standing right in front of you._

She looked up at him, stunned. "You?" she asked, astonished.

"Yes," he said, holding out a single red rose to her. "Happy Valentine's Day, Ashley. Will you be my Valentine?"

For a moment, she just stared at him in shock. And then she burst out laughing, a cold, cruel, horrible sound that focused everyone's attention on her. "You're serious?" she asked. "You think I would ever go out with someone like you, Jonathan Crane? Some skinny, ugly, little nerd? You must be crazy! A girl like me could never love someone like you – gorgeous and hideous don't mix, loser! So just take your stupid gifts back!" she said, throwing the card back at his face. "Nobody is ever gonna be your Valentine, freak!"

Her laughter was joined by others, until it seemed the whole school was pointing and jeering and taunting him. He remembered well the feeling of humiliation, the hot tears, the agony…he had felt them all many times before and after.

"Nobody is ever gonna love you, Jonathan Crane!" she laughed.

And then he woke up with a start. The woman next to him in bed stirred. "Mmm…Jonathan?" she yawned. "What is it?"

He let out a sigh of relief, the dream memories fading as his eyes adjusted to the sight of his wife, Emilia Crane, curled up next to him, dozing peacefully. "A dream, my dear," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "A nightmare. Nothing more."

"Good. Go back to sleep," she whispered, cuddling him.

He nodded, curling up against her, but she could hear his heart still hammering and knew he wasn't going back to sleep soon. "You wanna talk about it?" she asked gently, stroking his hair back.

"I doubt you'll want to hear, my dear," he murmured. "It was just a memory, of the first time I ever told a girl I liked her."

"Oh, am I gonna be jealous of this girl?" asked Emilia, grinning at him.

"I should think not," he retorted. "You probably weren't even born yet. And anyway, she wasn't half so pretty as you."

"Liar," retorted Emilia.

"I'm not lying," he said. "She wasn't nearly so attractive. Not as supple or shapely…"

"Mmm, Jonathan, stop," she giggled, as he ran his hands over her body. "You've just made up this dream thing to get sex, haven't you?"

"No, it really happened," he retorted. "It was utterly humiliating. The whole school pointing and laughing, and she telling me I'd never be loved…"

He trailed off. Emilia cuddled closer and kissed him. "She was an idiot, wasn't she?" she murmured. "I expected better taste from you, Jonathan, honestly. A man as intelligent as yourself shouldn't be attracted to a braindead bimbo – no wonder she spurned your advances. She wasn't smart enough to accept them. Unlike some of us," she murmured, giving him encouraging kisses.

Crane kept kissing her as he climbed on top of her. "Oh, my angel," he gasped. "My beautiful, beautiful angel…"

She gasped a little, and giggled. "Oh…I always forget how big it is!" she whispered. "Oh my…oh, Jonathan!"

Suddenly, crying from the neighboring room interrupted things. Emilia smiled, pushing him gently off her. "I just have to attend to your child, excuse me, my love – we'll finish this later."

She kissed him and then headed out of the room to go feed their baby. "She won't settle, Jonathan," Emilia said, returning to their bedroom at last carrying their daughter, who squirmed and fussed in her arms. "Why don't you try working your magic?"

"Of course, my dear," he said, taking the baby from her. "Shh, shh, it's all right, my darling Katrina," he murmured, rocking her. "Nothing to be afraid of in dreams. Go back to sleep, my beautiful angel," he said, kissing her forehead gently.

She cooed happily, smiling up at him as she sucked on her thumb contentedly and shut her eyes. "She's such a Daddy's girl," sighed Emilia, climbing back into bed next to him. "I'm just her food source. She doesn't adore me the way she does you."

"Of course she does, my angel," said Crane, kissing his wife's forehead.

"Then why does she always calm down when you hold her?" asked Emilia.

"I probably bore her – I have that effect on a lot of women," said Crane. "She's probably pretending to be asleep so she doesn't have to look at me."

"No, that's not boredom or revulsion on her face," said Emilia, nodding down at their baby, who was smiling peacefully. "She just loves her Daddy. And so do I," she added, kissing his cheek and cuddling against him. She was asleep in moments with her arms around him, and with his daughter also asleep in his arms, Crane, not wanting to disturb either of them, leaned back on the pillows and shut his eyes, feeling utterly at peace with the world. He was loved by two gorgeous women. _So take that, Ashley Whittaker_ , he thought as he dozed off.


	2. Chapter 2

"Morning, my angel," said Crane the next day, heading downstairs to see his wife curled up with his daughter, the latter sleeping peacefully while the former wrote in a notebook. Their pet raven, Lenore, was perched next to her, and cawed happily at seeing him.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Emilia said, tilting her lips up for his kiss. "I thought you needed to be out early for work today."

"Theoretically, but it's just to collect the new shipment of fear gas from the factory, so I'm sure the men can handle it," he said, kissing her and Katrina gently.

"You don't think fear gassing the entire city is a little trite for your Halloween scheme?" Emilia asked. "It isn't the first time you've tried it, after all. And the last thing I want is my husband locked up in Arkham again – single-parenting, even temporarily, is very difficult, so I hear."

"They wouldn't be able to keep me locked up away from my beautiful girls for long," he retorted, taking Katrina from his wife as she stood up and headed for the kitchen. Lenore fluttered onto his shoulder, cooing over the baby. "Anyway, I've never _successfully_ fear gassed the entire city. This will be a Halloween for the people of Gotham to remember for a long time now."

"If there's one thing I love about you, Jonathan, it's your determination," she said, emerging from the kitchen with tea and kissing his forehead. "That and everything else, of course."

"What are your plans for the day, my dear?" he asked her, taking the mug she handed him.

"The usual," she said, shrugging. "Playing with Katrina, feeding Katrina, changing Katrina, and, when I get a spare moment, writing."

"Have you given any more thought to publishing your book?" he asked. "You really should, my dear – you're an excellent writer."

"I doubt anyone would want to read my stories," she said, shrugging as she sat down with her notebook again.

"You never know until you try," he said. "I have absolute faith in you, my darling. Anyway, if they refuse to publish your book, I can always threaten to fear gas them until they do."

"That's sweet, Jonathan," she said, smiling at him. "But I'd like to succeed on my own merits, if possible, rather than on the fearsome reputation of my supercriminal husband."

"And I'm sure you would, if you just sent it off to some publishers," he said.

She shrugged again. "I don't think it's ready – I should probably redraft it a few times before…"

He reached out a hand and tilted her chin up. "You don't need to be afraid of rejection, my love," he murmured. "Or of anything. Not anymore."

"I try not to be, Jonathan," she said, grinning. "I try to master fear like you, only…it's harder for some of us. And I _do_ fear rejection, I can't help it. I was rejected so much growing up, by friends and everyone at school and…I'm just not sure I could take it again now. I'm not sure I could take some publisher telling me my work's no good, and that I should just give up…"

"And you wouldn't be foolish enough to listen to him if he did," said Crane, nodding. "I believe in you, my angel. I'm not going to let you give up on something you love, no matter what anyone says."

She kissed him. "Well, I suppose I haven't given up on you yet, so that's a good sign," she murmured, grinning. "But then you're impossible to stop loving."

Katrina stirred in his arms, opening up her wide, brown eyes and beaming happily at her father. Lenore cawed in greeting, and Katrina smiled at her too. "You entertain her while I get breakfast," said Emilia, heading back into the kitchen.

"Good morning, my sleeping beauty," Crane said, kissing his daughter as he held her up in his arms. "Who's ready for her first Halloween? I'm getting the cutest little costume for you – just wait until you see it!"

"Halloween's still two weeks away, Jonathan!" called back Emilia.

"Never hurts to be prepared," he retorted. "Especially for Halloween, the most important day of the year. Isn't that right, my angel?" he cooed.

The baby giggled, smiling at him. "Except for our anniversary, and Katrina's birthday," added Emilia, entering the room with two bowls of cereal.

"The third most important day of the year," corrected Crane. "I can't wait until you're old enough to experience real terror, my dear, in a safe, fictional, completely non-threatening environment, of course."

"Only you would be looking forward to scaring our baby," sighed Emilia, tucking into her breakfast.

"She'll enjoy it," said Crane. "If she's anything like her father, she'll be completely fascinated by fear."

"I'm not letting her watch horror movies until she's old enough to know they're not real," retorted Emilia.

"But part of the thrill of fear is the uncertainty as to whether it's real or only imaginary!" protested Crane. "You'll be depriving her of an enriching experience…"

"Did you want to feel afraid as a child?" interrupted Emilia.

Crane shook his head slowly. "No. Neither did I," agreed Emilia. "So you're not scaring her until she's old enough to know she's safe."

"Believe me, my dear, she will always know that," murmured Crane. "She will always know that I won't let any harm come to her, whatever happens. I want her to feel fear so that she knows whenever she feels that, which she inevitably will in life, she can come to me and I will make it right."

"Tell me again why I was the only woman who ever wanted to marry you?" asked Emilia, grinning at him.

"Because you have impeccably good taste," he said.

"I certainly do," she agreed, kissing him again. "But you'd better finish your breakfast and get to work," she said, glancing at the clock. "I don't trust the henchmen to have completed that transfer competently, and neither should you."

"If I were a paranoid man, my dear, I'd say you wanted to get me out of the house," he retorted.

"Yes, I do," she agreed. "I'm having company round whom I don't think you'll be in the mood to see."

"Oh. Who?" he asked.

"My lover," she said, completely deadpan. "I've been carrying on an affair while you're at work – he's a football player, with more muscles than brains, just the kind of man I like. In fact, Katrina's paternity is in doubt."

"You're not funny, you know," he muttered.

"I am, because it's ridiculous for you to be insecure," she retorted. "You are my one and only love, Jonathan Crane."

"It just seems too good to be true sometimes," he replied. "My whole life feels like an incredible dream I'm destined to wake up from, alone and unloved."

"There's my gloomy God of Fear," she said, kissing him. "But you're welcome to stay for the visitors, Jonathan. Only don't say I didn't warn you."

A knock came on the front door suddenly. "That'll be them now," said Emilia, grinning. "Too late for you to run."

"If it actually is a lover of yours, my dear, I think it only fair to warn you that I'm fear gassing them to death," said Crane.

"It's not," said Emilia. "In fact, it used to be a would-be one of yours."

"What…" began Crane, but Emilia opened the door at that moment and Crane got his answer. Because standing in the doorway, holding their twin children, stood Harley Quinn and the Joker.


	3. Chapter 3

"Morning from your friendly, neighborhood psychotic clown family!" chuckled Joker.

"Well, I wish I'd gone to work now," muttered Crane under his breath as Joker and Harley entered the room with their twin children, Arleen and J.J., in their arms. They put them down on the ground and the children instantly began running around the house, just barely missing colliding into furniture and knocking objects over, giggling hysterically.

"Good Lord, they're the spitting image of you," commented Crane, dryly.

"Yeah, take after their old man, the pair of 'em!" chuckled Joker. J.J. suddenly slammed into a table leg, knocking over a vase and sending it hurtling and smashing on the ground. J.J. didn't seem phased by this, however, regaining his balance and resuming running and laughing.

"Haven't childproofed your home yet, I see," commented Joker, as Crane's jaw tightened at the broken vase. "That's really irresponsible of you, Johnny."

"What are you all doing here?" demanded Crane.

"We were invited," said Harley. "By your wife."

"I don't get out and see people much these days, Jonathan, what with Katrina and all, so I thought I'd invite some other people with children over just to socialize," said Emilia. "Besides, since Harley's already gone through the newborn stage, I'm hoping she can give me some breastfeeding tips."

"And like any red-blooded male, I came along to hear those!" chuckled Joker. "Plus somebody's gotta watch the kids while the housewives are yammering."

"You are not watching my child," snapped Crane, holding Katrina away from him protectively. "I don't trust you anywhere near her."

"What am I gonna do to a baby?" demanded Joker. "You can't do anything funny with a baby!"

"There are plenty of tasteless jokes about dead babies," retorted Crane.

"Yeah, but they ain't funny," said Joker, shrugging. "And anybody can do those – they're too common. Ain't exactly a Joker kinda joke – well, not yet anyway. The writers have made me cut my face off, so killing babies is probably next…"

This time Arleen ran into the table supporting Lenore's perch, a plaster bust of Pallas, that teetered. Crane dived to catch it before it could fall, and Katrina started crying at the sudden movement. The Joker twins halted in their rampage, attracted by the noise.

"Wha da, Dada?" asked J.J., pointing at the baby.

"That's a baby," said Joker. "You kiddies used to be one of those, not so long ago. How time flies," he sighed, wiping a fake tear from his eye.

"Jonathan, let me see her," said Emilia, taking Katrina from him. "Feeding will quiet her down, and she's probably hungry anyway. I'll show you what I'm doing, Harley, and you let me know if I'm doing anything wrong," she said, heading into the other room with Harley following her.

"You're staying outside, Mr. J!" she snapped as Joker made to follow her.

Joker shrugged as the door slammed in his face. "Can't blame a guy for trying," he sighed. "Don't the funbags look great when they're breastfeeding, though?" he asked, turning to Crane and grinning.

"I'm not discussing my wife's breasts with you, or anyone," snapped Crane. "Why don't you just control your own children, while I still have possessions left?" he added, since the twins had started running around again.

"All right – hey, kiddies, calm down," said Joker. "Kiddies! Relaxing time!"

They were too hyper and energetic to pay any attention to him, so Joker sighed and sat down on the couch. "Hang on, this works every time," he said, reaching into his jacket.

For a horrible second, Crane thought he was about to remove a gun. But Joker instead withdrew two hand puppets from his jacket pocket, one of Batman and one of Robin. The children saw them and shrieked in joy, racing over to their father and settling down on the floor in front of him, wide-eyed.

"Kiddies love the puppet show," he explained. "Gee, Bats, what do you wanna do tonight?" he asked, using a high-pitched voice for the Robin puppet. "The same thing we do every night, Robin," he continued, in a deeper, Batman voice. "Try to depress the world! _They're Robin, they're Robin and the Bat, Bat, Bat, Bat, Bat_!" he sang. "That's their theme song, so you know you're in for another great episode of the show," he explained to Crane. "Bad news, Robin," he continued in Batman's voice. "That devilishly handsome and clever maniac, the Joker, has kidnapped the Police Commissioner! We need to head to the station at once and…Robin? Robin?!" he said, taking out a pocket knife and stabbing it into the puppet's eye. "It's too late…Batman!" he gasped in Robin's voice. "Joker got me! I'm…dying! Bleugh," he said, dropping the puppet. "Robin?! Robin, no! Robin!" he cried in Batman's voice, using the Batman hand puppet to cradle the other. "Curse you, Joker, you got another one, just like last week! Will the slaughter of the Robins never end?! And it never did," he finished in his normal, cheerful voice. "The end."

The children laughed hysterically, clapping their hands as Joker made the puppets bow. Harley and Emilia returned at that moment, with Katrina gurgling happily in her arms.

"Me see?" asked Arleen hopefully, holding out her arms to the baby.

"Most certainly not," retorted Crane. "I'm not trusting her with your father, or with toddlers!"

"Aw, c'mon, Craney, let 'em have a peek," said Joker. "They won't hurt her – I've taught them that we don't hurt people unless we have a joke to go with it, ain't that right, kiddie winks?"

They both nodded. "All right, but you have to promise to be careful, children," said Emilia, kneeling down and laying Katrina gently on the floor. The Joker twins crowded around her, staring down at her in wonder.

"Pwetty baby," said Arleen suddenly, lying down next to the baby and curling up. "Love."

"Oh God, that's too cute!" gasped Harley as J.J. joined his sister in cuddling the baby. "I gotta get a picture!"

"Here, use ours," said Emilia. "Jonathan got me a new camera for Valentine's Day this year."

"Oh. He gets you…presents on Valentine's Day?" asked Harley, curiously. "Like not just flowers and chocolates, but…real presents?"

"Yes, he's such a sweetheart," sighed Emilia, handing Harley the camera. "He had a very bad Valentine's Day once, so he likes to make up for it now. He…well, I really shouldn't say, it's sort of a private thing."

"No, go ahead," said Harley.

"Well, he did a sort of scavenger hunt around the city, leaving a rose at each location with a note to the next one. And it ended in a trail of roses leading to the roof of the library where we met, and where Jonathan had set up a whole private candlelit dinner. He'd even got a record player so we could dance. I didn't even know he could dance!" she laughed. "And he said he learned just for me."

"Aw, that's…sweet," finished Harley, her smile looking forced. "How come you don't do nice, sweet things like that for me no more, Mr. J?" she demanded, rounding on Joker. "How come you just do the same old Joker-toxin flower gag every Valentine's Day? You bored with our relationship or what?"

"Hey, the Joker-toxin flower gag is a classic!" snapped Joker. "An oldie but goodie, toots, like me! You're welcome to find somebody else if that don't satisfy you no more."

"I really shouldn't have said anything, but I do like to brag about my wonderful husband," Emilia murmured, smiling at Crane. "He's just so supportive and encouraging of everything I do. He's given me the courage to try and publish this novel I've written."

"Oh yeah?" said Harley. "I wrote a novel once, but Mr. J said it was crap."

"It _was_ crap," retorted Joker. "Just some trashy romance novel."

"Which meant it was perfect for publishing!" retorted Harley. "You seen the kinda crap that gets published nowadays?! Sparkly vampire romances and poorly written BDSM?! It was better than that!"

Joker forced a smile. "Johnny, can I see you in private for a second?" he asked.

Crane nodded, following him into the other room. The moment the door was shut, Joker punched him hard across the face. "Stop with your over-the-top Valentine's stuff and your unconditional support!" he snapped. "It makes other guys look bad!"

"I think showing my wife that I love her is a little more important than making other men look good," retorted Crane. "Maybe you should step up your game."

"I ain't gonna do nothing of the kind!" snapped Joker. "I got the little brat's self-esteem just where I want it, and I ain't gonna let her get all vain and conceited by treating her like some kinda queen! That's what you risk by fawning all over your dame the way you do – you risk her getting a huge ego and thinking she's too good for you and heading off to find someone else!"

"You have strange ideas about love," retorted Crane.

"No stranger than you, Mr. Hallmark on steroids!" snapped Joker. "Now just cut the romantic crap or get her to not tell Harley about it! Kid's spoiled enough as it is, and she don't need encouragement to be more demanding! I'm gonna have her nagging me to be more affectionate all the way home, and it's all thanks to you!"

"What a cross you have to bear," sighed Crane, sarcastically. They returned to the living room to see Harley and Emilia taking pictures and cooing over the three children playing together.

"As lovely as this is, I need to get to work, my dear," said Crane, kissing the top of his wife's head. "You're right – the henchmen do need supervising."

"Got a Halloween scheme planned as usual, Johnny?" asked Harley, smiling at him.

"Yes – fear gassing the city," replied Crane.

"Didn't you try that last year?" asked Harley.

"Yes," he agreed. "But if at first you don't succeed, try, try again, that's my motto."

"Mr. J's too," sighed Harley. "My motto is there are more important things than spending your life terrorizing a city and fighting a guy in a bat costume, like concentrating on your family and maybe treating your long-term girlfriend and the mother of your children to a few romantic gestures now and then because that's really the least you can do after all she's done for you."

"That's…rather a long motto," said Crane, slowly.

"Yeah, I just thought it up," she said, glaring at Joker.

Joker glared at Crane, in a clear "this is all your fault," expression that made Crane very grateful to be leaving as he headed off to work.


	4. Chapter 4

"Right, you all have your orders for tonight," said Crane to the henchmen, on the morning of Halloween. "I trust everyone knows how to handle the fear gas bombs so they don't accidentally explode, and when to be where when the time comes to avoid being gassed themselves. I accept no responsibility for carelessness on your part, nor any long-term, psychological damage that results from that carelessness, as stated very clearly in your contracts."

The henchmen nodded. Crane stood in front of them dressed in his usual Scarecrow costume, huge canisters of fear gas with explosive devices strapped to them behind him. "Good," he said, gesturing to the map. "Now as for the placement of the bombs to ensure maximum coverage, I've marked a spot for each of you to be on the map. Nigel, you'll take the Gotham Bridge…"

A knock suddenly came on the door to the hideout. It was opened a second later by Emilia, carrying Katrina.

"My love, what a pleasant surprise!" exclaimed Crane, beaming at her.

"Hello, Jonathan, sorry to bother you at work," she said, kissing him through his mask. She was breathless with excitement, her eyes sparkling. "I just have some quite wonderful news I couldn't wait to share. My book I sent off…they want to publish it!"

"Oh, my darling, that's excellent news!" exclaimed Crane, kissing her again. "But of course I knew they would – they'd have to be utterly blind to not recognize talent such as yours."

"You are such a sweetheart," she murmured, smiling. "Anyway, they want to meet with me right away to discuss the publication, and I just agreed on the phone – I was just so overwhelmed and put on the spot and completely forgot what day it was, and…well, I need to head over there now, so I need you to look after Katrina for the day."

Crane's face fell. "But…my love, it's Halloween and I have my scheme to complete. I can't possibly take care of Katrina…"

"Jonathan, I wouldn't ask otherwise, but this is my one chance to make a good impression on the publishing industry," said Emilia. "I can't call back and cancel – I'll never be considered again! And I didn't want to leave Katrina with strangers like a babysitter, or even Joker or Harley because you don't trust him especially after I told him how romantic you are, so I honestly don't know what else to do…"

Crane nodded slowly. "I suppose…if one of us has to have an unfulfilled dream, I would prefer it to be me. I can always repeat the scheme next Halloween, after all. And depending on how late the meeting runs, there might always be time to gas the city after, of course."

Emilia beamed. "You're an angel, Jonathan," she whispered, kissing him passionately. "An absolute angel. I'm sorry to embarrass you in front of the men," she added, noticing them. "Fear this man, everyone!" she announced. "Now here's the baby bag for Katrina – there should be plenty of milk in there for bottle feeding. Every couple of hours, but she'll usually let you know when she's hungry very vocally, won't she, my precious baby?" she cooed, nuzzling Katrina, who gurgled happily. "There should be plenty of diapers too – you'll know when she needs changing. Thank you so much, Jonathan – I do so love you," she murmured, kissing him tenderly.

"Best of luck with the publishers, my dear," he said, taking Katrina from her.

"Thank you, my love," she whispered. Emilia kissed them both again and hurried off, leaving Crane alone with the baby and the henchmen.

"Well…" Crane said, turning back to the men as Katrina chattered happily in his arms. "There appears to be…a slight change of plans…"

"Gee, boss, your missus is really hot," said one of the men, and the others murmured their agreement.

"Yes, she is," agreed Crane, slowly. "Thank you."

"And you just earned some serious brownie points," the henchman continued. "Bet she'll do anything you want in the sack later."

Crane clapped his hands over Katrina's ears. "I'll thank you not to discuss such things in front of my daughter!" he snapped.

"But boss, isn't that why you agreed to take care of the baby rather than do your scheme?" asked the henchman, confused.

"No, it isn't!" retorted Crane. "God, between you and the Joker, I feel like I'm the last gentleman left on earth! I'm sacrificing my scheme because my wife's happiness is much more important than mine, because I love her! And that is what love is, putting her needs before my own and being pleased to do so! Any…benefits I may reap from my act of generosity will be a bonus, but certainly not my primary reason for being generous!"

"Well, gee, boss, I woulda thought a guy as smart as you _woulda_ made that your primary reason," retorted the henchman. "If I was smart enough to get women to do what I wanted, I'd certainly use that to my advantage."

"I'm not smart enough to do that," retorted Crane. "Believe me, intelligence is not the primary quality women generally look for in a man. Years of being alone taught me that. I was very lucky to find Emilia, who loves me for who I am. Just as I love her."

"Guess it just goes to show, boss, that if a guy like you can get a girl as hot as that, then there's hope for all of us," said another henchman, and the others murmured their agreement again.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" demanded Crane.

"Nothing," said the henchmen hastily. "So…uh…you still want us to distribute the gas bombs, boss?"

"No, no – no point in scaring the city to death if I'm too preoccupied with other things. I won't be able to savor my victory," sighed Crane, looking down at his daughter, who smiled up at him, reaching out a hand toward his masked face. He smiled back. "You would think my appearance would scare a child, but she seems to love it," he said, holding up his daughter. "Who's my fearless little girl?"

Katrina squealed happily, touching his mask with both her hands and giggling. "That's right, you're my brave one, aren't you?" he cooed. "My brave little Katrina who knows no fear…"

He realized the henchmen were staring, and cleared his throat. "Yes…well…dismissed for now, I think," he said. "Just…everyone keep their phones on in case I can rearrange the scheme for later. Otherwise, go enjoy your Halloween."

"Boy, we've never had a Halloween off," commented one of the henchmen to another as they filed out. "I always use work as an excuse to get outta my friend's Halloween party – guess I gotta go find a costume now."

"Oooh, speaking of costumes, that's what we'll do, my little angel," said Crane, smiling at his daughter as the door shut. "We'll try on your new costume! If you could read, I think you'd really appreciate it! Anyway, your mother can read, and she always loves literary references, so this surprise should please her when she gets back."

Katrina giggled as Crane put her down on a work table and pulled out a small costume from his bag. He carefully dressed her, and when he was finished, pulled up a chair in front of the table to watch her flail about happily in it.

"You are currently dressed as Frankenstein's monster," he explained. "Or rather, the 1931 cinematic interpretation of Frankenstein's monster, as portrayed by Boris Karloff, which is actually quite different from the actual monster of the book. And it's very important that you don't refer to him as Frankenstein – Frankenstein is the doctor, not the monster. Educated people know the difference. And you're going to be an educated person, my adorable little monster," he said, kissing her as he turned her over onto her belly. Katrina gurgled happily, trying to prop herself up so she could still see and smile at her father.

"Most readers of the story sympathize with the monster," said Crane. "Not me, though. When you think about it, Dr. Frankenstein was an absolute genius, he discovered the secret of life itself, managed to cheat death, and what credit did he get for it? None. People just blamed him for the actions of the monster that he accidentally created – his intentions were pure, though. It's not his fault that the thing he made had violent tendencies, and why should he be responsible for it? Anyway, I relate to the misunderstood scientist. The world has always scorned and derided those who would go beyond the limits of mankind's knowledge, while reaping the benefits of their discoveries. The world is a cold, cruel, unforgiving place full of cold, cruel, unforgiving people."

Katrina had started drooling and making motor noises with her mouth. "Well, I suppose you're never too young for classic literature," said Crane, shrugging, as he wiped the drool from her chin. "I can tell you the story, if you like. An abridged version, of course – we won't have time for the full thing before your mother returns, and she warned me not to scare you. The story is frightening, but more in its ideas than its actions. The idea that a man as intelligent as Dr. Frankenstein should meet so cruel and unjust an end for merely trying to push the boundaries of science," he sighed. "Just tragic."

Katrina had placed the sleeve of her costume into her mouth and was contentedly sucking on it. "I don't quite have Shelley's prose down," continued Crane. "But you're probably too young to appreciate the nuances of most of that anyway. I'll try and simplify it for you, maybe change a few characters around. In fact, I don't see any reason why I shouldn't be the protagonist myself," he said, taking her and placing her on his lap. "Dr. Frankenstein shall be substituted for Dr. Crane in this piece. And I know exactly who I'm casting as the monster…"


	5. Chapter 5

Once a long time ago in Gotham City, there lived a man called Dr. Jonathan Crane who was considered quite mad. He had an ambition he was derided for by the unthinking, unimaginative, stupid masses, (which is redundant, by the way) an ambition to return the dead to life. Of course the small-minded fools of Gotham City mocked and ridiculed him for this, but Dr. Crane had been mocked and ridiculed his whole life so he was quite used to it, and tried not to let their words hurt him – they were insubstantial things, after all. And every day his experiments with animals brought him closer to the day when he would prove them all wrong, when he would bring something once dead back to life, and be referred to, not as a madman, but as a genius.

Such a day came one cold, rainy day in October, around Halloween. A man was to be hanged in Gotham City – he had committed a variety of heinous crimes, and the law saw fit to remove such a dangerous criminal from society forever. As he stood upon the gallows hearing the charges read out, he was watched from a safe distance by Dr. Crane and his friend and fellow scientist, Jervis Tetch.

"He's not the most attractive specimen, is he?" asked Tetch.

"No, but I'm not particularly concerned about that," retorted Crane. "His body will be freshly dead when we get it back to the laboratory – that's the important thing."

"Still, I would think the appearance of the first man to be returned to life should be fairly important," replied Tetch. "For posterity, anyway. We don't want pictures of him in all the future textbooks to frighten the children."

"I'm also not particularly concerned with the feelings of future children," retorted Crane. "Anyway, I'm hoping _my_ picture will be the one printed in future textbooks. I'm the one who's doing all the work, after all – this man was just lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time."

"Jack Napier, do you have any last words?" asked the hangman, as he fitted the noose around the condemned man's neck.

He shrugged. "It was a good ride while it lasted. And at least I get one final thrill before I go!" he chuckled, looking down at the trapdoor below him. "Quite the joke, really. Quite the jo…"

The hangman pulled the lever, opening the trap door and sending the condemned man plummeting down. The rope went taut, and then the man went still. Crane smiled.

"Clean neck-breaking – much easier to repair than if he had flailed about for ages, and it leaves fewer marks on the body," he said. "I congratulate the hangman on his good work, and on making our jobs easier. Come along," he said, heading down toward the gallows as the crowd dispersed from around it.

"Perhaps we should have brought some form of cart," said Tetch, as Crane climbed up onto the gallows and cut the rope the body hung from, lowering it gently to the ground.

"That would attract too much attention," said Crane, carefully placing the body into the large bag Tetch held.

"And carrying around a human-shaped sack won't?" asked Tetch.

"This way we can stay off the roads," replied Crane. "Sneak back home using the alleys and by-ways. Now come on – I'll carry the arms, you get the feet."

They made their way along the back roads of Gotham City, carrying the body between them, and were successful in avoiding people who might ask awkward questions until they reached Crane's home.

As they entered the laboratory by the back door, a female voice called, "Jonathan? Is that you?"

"Hide him!" hissed Crane, and they managed to stow the body under the work table just as the door opened and a very attractive young, blonde woman entered. This was Harleen Quinzel, Dr. Crane's ward, who was more affectionately known as Harley.

"Good evening, my angel!" said Crane, beaming at her.

"Jonathan, where have you been?" she asked. "Your dinner's on the table and getting cold."

"We'll be there in just a second, my darling," said Crane. "Just finishing up some work."

"What work?" asked Harley.

"Nothing to worry your pretty head about," he said, kissing her forehead. "Run along now, my dear – we'll join you momentarily."

Harley obeyed, shutting the door behind her. "We need to be extra careful to lock the laboratory door from now on," muttered Crane as he and Tetch lifted the body onto the table. "We don't want Harley coming in here and stumbling upon him. She'd probably faint from horror."

"Harley doesn't strike me as the fainting type," commented Tetch.

"She has a very innocent, delicate nature," retorted Crane. "And a pure, unspoiled soul. The last thing she needs to be subjected to is the shock and horror of finding a dead man in the laboratory."

"You know her better than me, of course," replied Tetch.

"I do," agreed Crane. "And I feel a father's affection for her, the kind of affection that wants to protect her from any unnecessary unpleasantness. And this man is certainly unpleasant," he said, removing the body from the bag and looking upon its face again. "He'll probably be even more so before we're done – we need to cut him open to make sure all the organs are healthy and replace the ones that aren't. I don't want to bring him back to life only to have him die from heart failure or something. Plus the effects of the electricity on his interior and exterior is unknown – some of the animals suffered skin and fur mutations, as you recall. I'm hoping the effect won't be similar on human beings, but I can't be sure. We head now into unknown territory, Jervis, and here there be monsters."

"Hopefully none so overwhelming that we can't control them," said Tetch. "The man's probably going to be grateful to you for bringing him back to life – he'll probably be entirely respectful and obedient."

"I daresay," agreed Crane. "But of course we can't be sure. The man had the mind of a criminal, so respect and obedience probably doesn't come naturally to him."

He thought for a moment. "I suppose I could always cut into his mind and try to modify it. As long as we're replacing organs, I might as well try to repair the brain. Think about it, Jervis – I could take this sorry excuse for a human being and mold his brain into that of a genius, or an artist, or anything I please, really."

"What if you make a mistake?" asked Tetch. "Cut out parts of the brain you need, or change bits you don't want to be changed?"

"Honestly, Jervis, I'll be careful," retorted Crane. "I'm a scientist, not a child, you know. I'm not just going to randomly cut in anywhere – that could result in some highly unstable, violent lunatic! And frankly that's the last thing Gotham needs now, or ever. Now come on – let's go join Harley for dinner."


	6. Chapter 6

A few weeks later, a huge storm came to Gotham City. The wind howled, the rain lashed, the lighting flashed, and Dr. Crane's eyes were sparkling as he looked out the window.

"It's almost time, Jervis," he said, turning to his friend who was operating some machines attached to the body of Jack Napier. They sparked and fizzled, just needing that extra jolt of electricity from the lightning to send them into full operation.

Crane went over to a lever and opened the skylight, so that the rain poured down into the lab. Then he went over to a pulley and slowly raised the table on which the body lay up towards the storming sky. "You created Man in your image, did you?" he murmured, smiling up at the heavens. "Well, two can play at that game. And the Lord said let there be life!"

Lightning struck the body suddenly, fizzling down the wires. "Now, Jervis!" shouted Crane. Tetch pulled the lever on the machine, sending the electricity into overdrive. The body underneath the sheet twitched and jolted, and then finally lay still.

Crane lowered the table back down into the lab and closed the skylight, his heart racing with anticipation and excitement. He gently approached the covered body, reaching for a stethoscope and placing it carefully over where the heart would be.

There was only silence. And just as Crane's own heart began to sink in failure, he suddenly heard a faint pulse, and saw a twitching of fingers from under the sheet. "It's alive," he breathed. "It's alive!" he exclaimed. "It's alive!" he cried, embracing Tetch. "We've done it, Jervis – it's alive!"

They suddenly heard a groan coming from under the sheet, and then the figure beneath it slowly sat up, the cover falling from its features to reveal…

A clown face. The skin all over the body was bleached white, the hair had turned green, and the lips were bright red under the green eyes that seemed to have retained the sparking electricity from its resurrection. The figure stared at them, and they stared back, and then the figure's bright, red lips suddenly broke into a grin, and it started laughing hysterically.

"Boy, what a rush!" he exclaimed. "That's quite the ride, huh? Begins with a long drop and a short stop, and ends with 40,000 volts being blasted through you! They should open a theme park with that – call it the old 'hang and shocker!' There'd be a line miles long for it, stretching around the block!"

He laughed again, and both Crane and Tetch stared at him in horror. "Well, don't look so surprised, boys – ain't this what you wanted?" asked the man. "Congrats – you did it! Brought a guy back to life! And I must say, excellent choice for your test subject. The world woulda been a pretty dreary place without the Joker to put a smile on people's faces!"

"Who's…the Joker?" asked Crane, slowly.

"I am," retorted the man. "Gotta have a new moniker to go along with the new look, huh?" he asked, looking at his bone white hands. "And coming back from the dead is really quite the joke, doncha think? Plus I always had an excellent sense of humor, and you'd better believe the ladies loved that!"

He chuckled, standing up and heading over to the mirror. "Woah, but the ladies ain't gonna love this!" he exclaimed, frowning slightly at the clown face. "But I suppose I still got the old Jack Napier charm, even if I don't currently possess his stunning good looks."

He turned to smile at them. "So who are you guys? Thanks for the resurrection, by the way – I owe you one."

"Yes, you certainly do," retorted Crane, recovering himself at last from the shock of seeing his creation talk, and speaking so flippantly. "I'm Dr. Crane, and this is Mr. Tetch, and now that we've brought you back from the dead, we're going to need to publicize my miraculous achievement. We'll need to go to scientific conventions and lecture tours and display you…"

"Woah, woah, woah, I ain't being displayed anywhere," said Joker, holding up his hand. "Science conventions sounds like a huge pile of boring, and I ain't some freak you're touring around with you."

"Yes, you are," retorted Crane. "I made you – that makes you mine to do with as I see fit. You owe me your obedience and allegiance, as your creator."

"Yeah, you're really obedient to your creator, taking over his job and all!" chuckled Joker. "Sounds like a rebellion to me, and I'll be damned if I don't feel the same way about my creator!" he laughed. "Y'know, God gave his creations free will. And so did you, sucker!" he cackled, racing toward the laboratory door.

"Get after him!" shouted Crane, rushing after Joker as he turned the key in the lock and dashed off into the house. "I need him to show off to the scientific community! It's the only way I'll ever win the Nobel Prize and the respect of my peers! Joker, come back here this instant!"

Joker ignored him, running down the corridor of the house toward the front door. As he turned a corner, he suddenly ran face first into someone, knocking them both to the ground with a cry.

"Sorry, toots," he said, picking himself up and noticing the blonde woman who had fallen to the ground. "Didn't mean to hurt…you…"

He trailed off as the woman slowly picked herself up and looked at him. They gazed at each other in fascination.

"You…ok?" stammered Joker.

"Yeah," murmured Harley, smiling at him. "I'm…ok."

Crane and Tetch rounded the corner suddenly. "Joker, there you are…Harley!" gasped Crane, horrified. "I'm so sorry you had to see him, come along," he snapped, grabbing Joker's hand and dragging him off.

"No, that's ok, Jonathan," said Harley, hurrying after them. "Who…uh…is he?"

"He's…he's a friend," said Crane. "An old friend who's been in an accident, as you can see from his hideous appearance."

"Hey!" snapped Joker.

"He was in town and didn't know anyone else in Gotham, so he decided to look in on me," continued Crane, ignoring him. "But now we've caught up, and he has to leave suddenly, very important business elsewhere…"

"Can't you stay a little longer?" interrupted Harley, looking pleadingly at Joker. "I'm sure Jonathan won't mind…"

"I sure can, toots," agreed Joker, eagerly, before Crane could answer for him. He snatched his hand away from Crane and took Harley's gently, raising it to his lips and kissing it. "I'm the Joker."

"What a very unusual name," murmured Harley, beaming at him. "I love it. I'm Harleen Quinzel, but call me Harley, everyone does. I'm Dr. Crane's ward."

"Oh, ward!" said Joker, smiling. "I thought you might be his wife or something, but I'm very pleased to hear that ain't the case."

Harley laughed. "Oh no, nothing like that," she murmured, smiling back. "I'm…unattached romantically."

"Well, hopefully not for long!" chuckled Joker. Harley blushed, and Crane became absolutely livid.

"Yes, very amusing, what a funny man you are, now come along, Joker!" he snapped, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him into the laboratory. "We'll see you soon, my dear," he said, smiling at Harley, and then slamming and locking the door.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?!" roared Crane, rounding on Joker. "Blatantly flirting with my ward like that…"

"Why shouldn't I? She's hot, and she just said she ain't romantically attached…" began Joker.

"Because you're a man who's come back from the dead!" shouted Crane.

Joker shrugged. "Means I should start living a little now, eh, Craney?" he chuckled, clapping him on the back. "You should take a page outta my book – discover what life's really about!"

"I know precisely what life's really about!" roared Crane. "I have discovered its secret!"

"Coulda fooled me," retorted Joker.

"Look, you ungrateful scum, you're going to stay locked up in here until I decide what to do with you," snapped Crane. "And if you ever look at my ward again, I'm going to personally snuff out that life that I took such pains to create! Don't test me – I will do it, I promise you! Good evening!"

He left the laboratory, slamming and locking the door behind him. "Why on earth did you give him the ability to talk?" asked Tetch.

"He had it in the novel – I had to be consistent," retorted Crane.

"The parts of the brain you cut up…you were careful, weren't you?" asked Tetch, slowly. "Because Mr. Napier no longer seems an entirely stable individual."

"I thought I had been," replied Crane. "But perhaps he wasn't entirely stable in the first place. I was sure I didn't cut out anything too vital, and only improved the parts I modified…"

"Jonathan?" called Harley, appearing suddenly from down the hall. "Where's the Joker? I was so hoping he could join us for dinner."

"He said he felt tired, my love – I've just sent him off to bed," invented Crane.

"Oh," said Harley, her face falling. "Well, if you tell me which room he has, I really should go wish him a goodnight…"

"No, no, no, he'll be asleep by now," said Crane, hastily. "No need to disturb him."

"He's just such an unusual-looking man," sighed Harley. "I've never met anyone like him before. And he just has the most beautiful smile, don't you think?" she sighed, dreamily.

Crane retained his forced smile until Harley left them, and then instantly buried his face in his hands. "I've made a terrible mistake!" he whispered. "Oh God, what have I done?!"


	7. Chapter 7

A few weeks passed, and as much as Dr. Crane wanted to avoid all possible contact between his ward and his creation, he couldn't really prevent it without arousing Harley's suspicions. But they were only allowed to be together when Crane could supervise them, at mealtimes mostly. Crane watched their every interaction with narrowed eyes, glaring at the way they looked at each other, at the way Joker made Harley laugh, and at her blush as she gazed at him. He knew if he ever left the monster alone with her, something terrible would happen. And he vowed never to let it.

But he also wanted to show off his creation to the scientific community as soon as possible – that was the whole point of the Joker's existence, after all, to give Crane the respect and recognition he deserved. And once he started taking the monster out on tours for long periods of time, he hoped Harley's apparent fascination with him would cool, and eventually die altogether.

So one day during teatime, Crane left Harley and Joker to be supervised by Tetch while he went to go meet with some of his fellow scientists to arrange a date to present his achievement to the world.

Crane once again reiterated to Tetch the importance of not leaving the two of them alone, and then kissed Harley's cheek fondly as she entered with the tea tray, before heading out of the house.

"Can I pour you a cup of tea, Mr. Tetch?" asked Harley, holding up the pot as the door shut.

"I never refuse a cup of tea, my dear," replied Tetch.

"No, that's true!" she laughed. "I should know that by now, Mr. Tetch. Tea is your weakness."

Harley poured one for him, handing him the cup, and then took a seat, staring across at Joker and smiling shyly at him. They sat in silence as Tetch sipped his tea, drained it, and put the cup down…and then instantly fell asleep.

Joker stared at him. "What…" he began.

But Harley reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vial. "Sedative I purloined from Jonathan's lab some time ago," she murmured. "I thought it might be useful one day."

Joker's face slowly broke into a grin. "You're a devious little minx, ain't ya?" he chuckled.

"How dare you?" she replied, trying to look offended but failing to hide her own grin. "I am nothing but a proper lady, Mr. Joker. Sweet and pure and innocent."

"Sure you are, toots," he chuckled. "And I'm Batman."

"Who's Batman?" she asked, confused.

"Never mind," he retorted. "Someone I ain't, anyway."

He stood up, approaching her. "Anybody ever tell you you're the prettiest gal they've ever laid eyes on?" he asked.

"Jonathan refrains from complimenting my appearance – he doesn't want to encourage vanity in his ward, and he says women are especially susceptible to such things," she replied. She grinned. "So please go on, Mr. Joker."

"You can stop that Mr. Joker stuff," he said. "There's no need to call me Mr. Joker when it's just the two of us."

"What should I call you?" she breathed. "Now that we're…all alone…together?"

"Anything you want," he murmured. "But we shouldn't stand on formality. I wanna be very, very informal with you, dollface. Very, very intimate."

"I'm honestly not sure what you mean, Mr. J…" she began.

But then the monster kissed her. Harley instinctively slapped him hard across the face. "Mr. J!" she exclaimed, shocked. But that instantly changed to excitement as she gasped, "Oh, Mr. J!" throwing her arms around his neck and shoving her mouth back into his. The monster slammed her down onto the table, sending the tea things flying…

"And never you mind what happened next for them. It's not for a child's ears," finished Crane, as Katrina continued to beam and gurgle at him, as she had throughout the story, enraptured by his voice. "I'm only telling you this part as a warning to you, my love – if any man at any point in your life starts talking to you like that, or acts like a forward cad the way that monster did, you must knee him in the groin and come and get me. I will make him pay for even daring to think about my daughter in that way, I will make every fear he has ever suffered a living reality, I will see him writhing at your feet in uncontrollable terror…"

Katrina suddenly burst into tears at the anger in her father's voice. "Oh no, no, no, my love," he murmured soothingly, rocking her. "No, no, I'm not really angry. There, there, calm yourself, my sweet little angel. I don't even need to worry about such things - you're going to grow up to be such a clever girl, because you already are one, and not get involved with any horrible man, not like Harley…"

At that moment, the door opened and Emilia re-entered the room. "My love, how did it go?" asked Crane, standing up excitedly, but his face fell when he saw the disappointment on hers.

"They don't want to publish it anymore," she murmured, putting down the manuscript on the table. "They wanted me to…change parts I refused to change."

"What parts?" asked Crane, as Katrina chattered happily at seeing her mother, her temporary tears forgotten. Emilia took the baby from him, cradling her gently and kissing her.

"They told me…that women writers…should write women's fiction," she whispered.

"Well, your book is a work of fiction written by a woman," retorted Crane. "Surely that _is_ women's fiction by its very definition?"

"That's what I said," said Emilia with a wry smile. "But they told me as a female author, my story should be more traditionally romantic and less horrific, since that's what the audiences expect from female authors. They wanted me to change the main male character to be a stereotypically handsome type, a stunningly gorgeous, experienced seducer who awakens the sexuality of his innocent female conquest for the first time – apparently those types of novels are very popular now, and the kind of thing women are supposed to write."

"Didn't you base the main male character on me?" asked Crane.

"Yes," replied Emilia. "And that's why I refused to change it. It would be out of character for him or you to be an experienced seducer, and I don't much like the thought of that anyway. I'd be terribly jealous," she said, planting a kiss on his lips. "Anyway, the story I wanted to tell was _our_ story, not just another silly, superficial love story between two attractive people, but a love story about the kinds of people who never feature in grand, romantic dramas. Two people who had been bullied and outcast their whole lives, and who finally found each other, the only people in the world who could shield them from its cruelty, the only two souls who could ever understand each other. I wanted our story to be a kind of hope, for people who had maybe given up on love because they felt they were too different."

She sat down. "And the bits they wanted me to cut out were the bits about the bullying, and the fear, and the pain, and all the other random cruelty of the world. They said that was too depressing in a love story. I tried to explain that I didn't create the world – I just wrote from my experiences in it. But they didn't seem to understand that, or anything I tried to tell them. They told me that they liked my writing style, but if I wanted it published, I would have to comply with their demands on changing the content. Women's fiction, honestly!" she sighed. "Can you imagine Charlotte Bronte being told her story wasn't right for women's fiction? Though I suppose she did use a male pen name, and this is clearly why. Or Mary Shelley? Speaking of which, I do love Katrina's costume," she said, smiling at her daughter. "What an adorable little Frankenstein's monster. Though knowing the day I've had, if we take her out trick-or-treating in this, people will just call her Frankenstein and I'll have to judge them harshly," she sighed. "There's no excuse for not knowing that Frankenstein is the name of the doctor."

"Oh, my dear, I do so love you," murmured Crane, kissing her. "I was just telling Katrina a variation of the Frankenstein story, very loosely based on the original, of course, and more about my personal experiences with monsters."

"Yes, we've both had quite a few of those, haven't we?" she sighed, leaning her head against his chest. He embraced her, resting his cheek against the top of her head, and they held each other and their child in silence.

"Well," sighed Emilia at last. "I should take Katrina home and let you get on with your Halloween scheme. That's the one upside of this – plenty of time left for it now."

Katrina began wailing suddenly, holding out her arms and stretching her hands out for her father. "Oh, I think she wants to hear the rest of the story, don't you, my angel?" Crane asked, bending down and kissing her nose. "And so you shall, my precious. But later. I just have a quick errand to run first."

"Errand? What errand?" asked Emilia, puzzled. "I thought you had prepared the scheme well in advance."

"Yes, but something's just come up," said Crane, reaching for his syringes of fear gas and strapping them to his glove. "You go home, my love – I'll see you and Katrina there later tonight."

"I hope so," she agreed. "Knowing my luck today, your scheme will be foiled by Batman and you'll be dragged back to Arkham."

Crane gently cupped her face in his hands and kissed her firmly. "I will be home tonight to spend my first Halloween with my family, I promise," he murmured. "And to finish Katrina's story," he added, smiling at his daughter. "Nothing worse than making people wait for the ending of a gripping tale, is there, my precious?"

Katrina giggled happily, giving him a sloppy kiss on his mask. Emilia kissed him tenderly on the lips, and then Crane headed off to go have a word with her publishers.


	8. Chapter 8

_Love Never Dies,_ the publishing house owned by Mr. Frank Oldman and Mr. John Webber, was in the business of making money. And like all businesses, they found out what their customers wanted, and exploited all aspects of it until they discovered something new their customers wanted, exploited all aspects of that, and so on. They didn't read much themselves – they were businessmen, not artists, and the only talent they really recognized was the talent of putting money in a bank account.

Currently the hot trend in publishing was stories about innocent young women being seduced by threatening monsters, and so when they had received a novel called _The Bride of the Scarecrow_ , they had instantly invited the author, a Mrs. Emilia Crane, to their establishment to help make her story more in keeping with the kind of thing they published, the kind of thing the customers wanted and would keep them in business.

"You've written this Scarecrow figure as an older, bookish professor, and we were sorta hoping you could change him to a young, hot professor," said Mr. Webber. "Women love that – looks and brains, but the former is of course always more important than the latter."

Emilia stared at him. "Oh…well, my Scarecrow _is_ an older, bookish professor, so…that doesn't really work for me."

"Surely a fictional character can be anyone you like?" demanded Mr. Webber. "They're not real, after all. Just change them to suit the demands of the market."

"You're not a writer, are you, Mr. Webber?" asked Emilia, dryly. "The characters a writer creates may not be real, but they take on a life of their own, and to make them act in ways that ring untrue is one of the worst crimes a writer can commit."

"Female audiences also like the idea of the redeemable monster," continued Mr. Oldman, nodding. "And we like that part of your story, that he finally learns to love, but it's confusing that he still seems to be committing crimes after he's found love."

"The moral is that love can't entirely transform someone, nor can it heal all scars," replied Emilia. "Life doesn't work that way. But love can help heal more than anything else, and even a damaged person can still find happiness."

"You have to understand that the moral of our stories is that love can always entirely transform a monster," replied Mr. Oldman. "And heal all scars. We don't publish true life stories - we publish wish fulfillments. So it needs to have that moral – he needs to stop terrorizing the world when he's found his love. And maybe his backstory could be something less depressing than bullying and more exciting, like the loss of his first true love in some tragedy? Who you could then remind him of? He could be seducing women meaninglessly until he meets the innocent woman who can truly teach him to love again."

"But that's not…my Scarecrow," repeated Emilia. "He's fragile and vulnerable and…I can't just completely change his character like that…"

"Miss Crane…"

" _Mrs._ Crane," corrected Emilia.

"Mrs. Crane, we are running a business," said Mr. Webber. "And if you want to be a real author, you have to run a business too, and suit your writing to the demands of the market. That's what all good writers do. You can either accept our changes and be a real published writer, or go back to writing silly stories about freaks for the amusement of your husband, who will be the only one who will ever read them."

Unfortunately for her, Mrs. Crane had proven stubborn and uncooperative with their demands for change, and so even with a title and a premise as potentially profitable as that, Mr. Oldman and Mr. Webber sadly had to deny publication. More her loss than theirs, though – they could easily find someone else who would completely rewrite their original work to their specific demands in order to be published. Most people would take money over artistic integrity – most people weren't crazy, after all.

Mr. Oldman and Mr. Webber were just about to head home for the evening when the lights in their office suddenly went out. "Must be a power cut," said Webber, glancing out the window. But none of the other buildings seemed to be affected by it.

Then they heard what sounded like distant screams coming from the rest of the building – they managed to stumble through the darkness to the door and threw it open to hear the screams growing louder and clearer.

"Get them away from me!" shrieked their secretary, who was curled up in front of her desk batting at nothing. Other employees lay strewn about the floor, some curled up and whimpering, some screaming hysterically, and some attacking each other. One of them noticed Oldman and Webber and ran shrieking toward them, and the two publishers quickly slammed and locked the door.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell is happening out there?!" roared Oldman. "It's like some sort of sick Halloween prank!"

"No prank, gentleman," said a soft voice from the shadows. "Just good old fashioned trick or treat. You refused to treat my wife, and now you're rewarded with a trick. Happy Halloween," he added, as a match was struck on the desk to reveal the masked face of the Scarecrow.

Oldman and Webber stared at him. "Wife?" repeated Webber. "Who…Crane…Mrs. Emilia Crane…oh God!" he gasped, slowly processing what that meant.

"Yes, I was mildly upset that my plans for terrifying the city were crushed tonight," said the Scarecrow. "When you called my wife, you were actually sparing the city from my fear gas attack. And you still have, by bringing the attack down upon yourselves. How very generous of you."

"Crane…Scarecrow…please," gasped Oldman. "We'll…we'll publish your wife's book, we'll do anything, only don't…please, spare us!"

"Oh yes, you _will_ publish my wife's book," said Scarecrow, quietly. "But first you will know true fear. It is Halloween, after all, so that seems only appropriate. Anyway, with all your talk of monsters, I'm afraid you don't know what a monster actually is. You seem to think they're some sort of grand, romanticized figure, while the truth is quite different, I assure you."

He smiled. "I wonder if your fears will be anything more than a crumbling business and an empty bank account," he murmured. "Let's see, shall we?"

And he blew out the match, immersing them in darkness. A second later, both publishers felt the sting of needles injecting fear gas into their necks. And then the horror began.


	9. Chapter 9

"Goodness, Jonathan, you _are_ back early!" exclaimed Emilia, as the door to their home opened. "Have you completed the scheme already?"

"I have, my love," he said, kissing her and petting Lenore, who flew onto his shoulder, cooing. "A modified version of the scheme, but you're right, that fear gassing the whole city idea was a little trite."

He handed her a publishing contract. "Your publishers have reconsidered, by the way. They'll probably be in no fit state to see you tomorrow, but hopefully they'll have recovered sometime this week."

"Jonathan, you didn't!" she exclaimed.

"I didn't what? Fear gas them? Give them exactly what they deserved and a taste of their own medicine? Yes, I did," he replied. "I don't feel the slightest bit of remorse about it, and neither should you."

"Jonathan, I told you not to!" she said. "I told you I wanted to be published on my own merits, not because of any threats of yours!"

"They admitted you had merit, my darling," he said. "They just told you your story didn't meet their criteria. And now they've been persuaded to change that criteria. I think it's an admirable arrangement for all involved. You get your book published, I got to fear gas someone for Halloween, and they learned their lesson about putting money before talent. Everybody wins."

Emilia glared at him, but that soon broke into a smile. "I suppose I can't stay mad at you after you do this all for me," she muttered, kissing him tenderly. "You are the world's most wonderful husband, you know that?"

"So you've said," he agreed. "But when my competition's the Joker, the bar isn't set very high."

He held out a bag of candy. "I also took this from the publishing house, my dear. I never went trick-or-treating as a boy, and I think Katrina is a bit too young for it right now, but at least we can enjoy the fruits of those labors."

"Yes, I'll show you how to build candy forts," said Emilia. "That's what my parents and I always used to do after trick-or-treating. I always dressed up as a vampire, while all my other female friends went as princesses."

"I'll bet you were by far the world's most adorable vampire," said Crane, kissing her forehead. "Maybe we'll dress up Katrina as that next year."

They had begun building the foundations of the candy fort with Lenore handing them pieces out of the bag when Katrina woke up from her nap and began crying for her parents. Emilia went to go bring her into the living room, and she stopped crying when she saw her father, and began babbling hopefully, holding out her arms to him.

"Ah, my little angel wants the rest of her story," he said, taking the baby from Emilia. "She's going to be a voracious reader someday, just like her parents."

"Well, like her mother at least," agreed Emilia. "My football player lover isn't that much of a reader."

Crane glared at her and she burst out laughing. "Jonathan, you really must stop biting!" she giggled. "Look at her! She's the spitting image of you, from your eyes right down to her hair," she said, running her fingers gently through Katrina's tiny tuft of red hair.

"It's just too serious an idea to joke about," retorted Crane.

"Too serious an idea?" repeated Emilia. "I'm insulted, Jonathan. You think that I would ever want anyone else but my beloved Scarecrow, who terrorizes entire publishing houses for me? Who goes to any extreme length to make me happy, including giving up his own plans for his favorite holiday to please me? Do you think I'm crazy, Jonathan?"

"You must be, to love me," he retorted.

"No, I have uncommonly good sense," she replied, kissing him. "Now I'll work on the candy fort while you tell the rest of your story."

"All right, where did I leave off, my precious girl?" he asked, seating Katrina in his lap. "Oh yes, I was warning you about the caddish way men sometimes act, and what you're to do if they ever attempt anything of the kind with you."

"What sort of story are you telling our daughter?" asked Emilia, raising an eyebrow.

"One that will equip her with the skills needed to survive in a very dangerous world," retorted Crane.

"She's not even six months old and you're already an overprotective father," sighed Emilia. "Good grief, I fear for her first boyfriend."

"And he should be fearful of me," agreed Crane. "As most everyone should, except my beautiful wife and daughter, of course," he added, kissing Katrina. "Now, for the rest of the story, my love…"

Dr. Crane returned home in a rather elated mood – the scientists he had spoken to were suitably impressed with his claims and the notes taken in his journal. Now he just needed to bring the monster along as proof of the miracle he had created through science.

He entered the living room to see Harley sewing and the monster reading, while Tetch dozed in his armchair. "Jervis, you weren't meant to fall asleep!" snapped Crane.

"Oh, don't be too hard on him, Jonathan," said Harley, smiling innocently. "He clearly needed his rest."

"How strange…tea usually has the opposite effect on me," said Tetch, frowning. "Perhaps I've become used to its stimulant properties."

"Well…don't let it happen again," snapped Crane, glaring from Joker to Harley. "Not that it will have an opportunity to happen again – the Joker is coming with me."

"Where?" asked Joker.

"On a little trip," retorted Crane. "There are some people who want to see you. Come along."

"Will the Joker be back?" asked Harley, as Crane grabbed his arm and dragged him to the door.

"Hopefully not soon," retorted Crane. "Hopefully we'll be touring all over the country for a very long time. Jervis, you're to stay here with Harley, and do a better job looking after her than you did tonight, for God's sake!"

"But…" began Harley, but the front door slammed in her face.

"I'll go make some more tea, my dear," said Tetch, standing up and heading to the kitchen.

Harley just stared at the front door where the Joker had disappeared. Tears trailed slowly down her face as she whispered, "But…I love him."


	10. Chapter 10

Dr. Crane had achieved his lifelong ambition. He had presented his miraculous achievement, this new life had made single-handedly, to the scientific community, he had been hailed as a genius and a hero, he had the admiration and respect he had always wanted from his peers…and he was still not happy.

It didn't help that his monster was proving most difficult – he wasn't a very cooperative man to begin with, and he resented being displayed like a freak in a show to be poked and prodded and stared at. And while normally the Joker was a man with a perpetual smile on his face, for some reason since they had left Gotham, his smile had vanished.

But it wasn't just the monster's fault. Crane felt a sense of emptiness – he had done all he had set out to do, and now was unsure of his purpose in life. The fame and respect of others had not filled the holes in his heart as he had hoped they would. And so despite his success, he spent a very gloomy couple of months touring the country with his monster.

He received the shock of his life when a telegram suddenly arrived from Tetch with the short, simple message: _You and Joker must return at once. Harley in trouble. Come immediately._

Naturally Crane instantly canceled all his plans, and hurried back to Gotham with the Joker at once. "Where is she?" Crane exclaimed, flinging open the front door to his home. "What's wrong?"

Tetch put a finger to his lips, carrying a tea tray and a bowl of soup. "She's resting upstairs," he whispered.

"What's wrong with her?" asked Joker, shoving Crane out of the way.

"I'm not sure wrong is the correct word exactly," said Tetch, quietly. "But you should see her for yourself, but do be quiet. She needs her rest."

They followed Tetch up the stairs and he opened the door to Harley's room carefully. The lights were out and Harley was fast asleep, and Tetch crept over to her bedside, pulling aside the covers. "Harley is with child," he whispered.

Crane stared in horror at Harley's swollen belly. "Jervis, how...could you?!" he gasped. "I trusted you…"

"I didn't do it!" retorted Tetch, angrily. "I have never laid a hand on Harley in that way!"

"Then who…" began Crane, but his eyes fell on Joker, who was gazing at Harley tenderly, a smile on his face.

"You…disgusting…brute!" Crane gasped. "You did this…to my ward?!"

"Well, frankly, I didn't know that I still had the ability to procreate," retorted Joker, shrugging. "Didn't know the dead could create life. So I didn't figure I needed to be careful."

"Yes, why _did_ you still give him that ability?" asked Tetch. "As long as you were cutting stuff out and making adjustments, you could have neutered him, as people do with pets."

"He's not a pet!" snapped Crane. "He's a man!"

"Damn right I am!" chuckled Joker. "Aw, this is great news…"

"It is not!" hissed Crane. "My ward having a child out of wedlock is not great news!"

"Well, I'll take care of her," replied Joker. "I'll even marry her if you wanna."

"You're a monster!" snapped Crane. "You can't marry her! You're not even a real man, just a creature I created!"

"Well, Harley's condition would say different!" chuckled Joker.

Harley stirred at the noise. "Mmm…Mr. J?" she murmured, opening her eyes slowly.

"Hiya, kiddo," said Joker, bending down to kiss her forehead. "How ya feeling?"

"A lot better now that you're here," she whispered, taking his hand and beaming at him. She placed his hand over her belly. "It's yours, puddin'," she whispered. "Yours and mine. Our life that we created together. And I couldn't be happier. I love you so much," she whispered, kissing him.

Crane stared at the two of them, a slow realization spreading through his brain. And then he headed for the door, sitting down on the steps by the landing and putting his head in his hands.

"Jonathan?" asked Tetch, following him. "Are you all right?"

"I created a life too, Jervis," murmured Crane. "But it hasn't made me as happy as Harley. Why is that? Why is it that with all my brains and intelligence, I'm not as happy as she is over the natural result of the most common act between a man and a woman?"

Tetch took a seat next to him. "Perhaps because…your creation was born out of a desire to impress others," he said gently. "While theirs was born out of love."

Crane was silent. "What is the point of life without love, after all?" continued Tetch. "What is the point of all your brains and intelligence if your work lacks heart?"

Crane looked at him. "Is that the true secret of life?" he murmured. "That nothing worthwhile can come out of it if not created with love?"

"I don't know," replied Tetch. "You tell me. You discovered it, after all."

Crane shook his head slowly. "Perhaps I haven't," he murmured. "Not yet. But I will, Jervis, I promise you. I will."

And Dr. Crane did. He gave up his ambitions to find happiness solely through his work, and focused on other things, like his ward and his creation's family, which turned out to be a set of twins, which they were both very happy about. And eventually Dr. Crane found a beautiful, kind, perfect woman named Emilia, whom he married, and had a beautiful, kind, perfect child named Katrina. And thus Dr. Crane found out the true secret of life, and happiness along with it.

Crane finished the story, kissing his wife and daughter. "I don't remember any of that in the Frankenstein story," said Emilia, bluntly. "Nor do I remember the ending being a happy one for either the doctor or the monster."

"Honestly, my angel, there have been enough interpretations of the story that have been unfaithful to the original novel – why object to one more?" asked Crane.

"Because if we're exposing Katrina to classic literature young, she needs to learn the correct stories, not some new spin on them," retorted Emilia. "Our job as parents is to educate our child, not confuse her."

"She's not confused, are you, my precious?" asked Crane, kissing his daughter, who smiled sleepily at him, yawning and shutting her eyes. "There, you see? That's not confusion."

"No, that's adoration," sighed Emilia. "And that makes two of us."

She kissed him tenderly, and then put the finishing touches on the candy fort. "Time for bed, I think, my love," she murmured, heading upstairs to put Katrina into her crib. "And us too, Jonathan," she added.

"But it's Halloween, my angel," protested Crane, following her after wishing Lenore goodnight. "I usually stay up until the witching hour at least reading ghost stories…"

"We can do that in bed," interrupted Emilia. "Or we could do…other things in bed too. It's up to you, Jonathan," she said, heading for the door. "Coming?" she asked, turning around to grin at him.

Crane smiled back at her. "Goodnight, my angel," he whispered, bending down to kiss Katrina. He then followed his wife out of the room, murmuring, "This really is the best Halloween ever."


	11. Chapter 11

"…so frankly, they were probably the best Halloween costumes ever," finished the Joker.

"Weren't you and Harley already Batman and Robin for Halloween?" asked Crane, puzzled, as he held Katrina who babbled at Arleen and J.J., but who was kept a safe distance away by her father.

"Yeah, but that was before we had the kiddies," retorted Joker. "And honestly having J.J. as Nightwing and Leenie as Batgirl really completed the whole Bat-family look. And boy, you should have seen everyone emptying their houses of candy when we went out trick-or-treating!" chuckled Joker. "We'll be living off it for weeks!"

"What a fascinating story, Joker, but as I've said, Emilia isn't home," said Crane. "And I certainly didn't ask for your company…"

"Yeah, but it's a pain going all the way home and then coming back," sighed Harley. "You should live closer to the other side of Gotham. That's where all the cool people live."

"Cool people being?" asked Crane.

"If you have to ask, you ain't one!" chuckled Joker.

The door opened at that moment and Emilia entered. "Oh…Joker, Harley, I didn't expect to see you here," she said, surprised.

"The kiddies wanted to see the baby again," said Harley. "And I wanted to see how you were coping with the new feeding techniques."

"Oh…fine, yes," said Emilia, absentmindedly. "In fact, could you watch Katrina for a moment, Harley, while I have a word in private with my husband?" she asked, beckoning Crane into the kitchen.

"What is it, my love?" he asked, handing Katrina to Harley and then following Emilia into the room, shutting the door. "Is something wrong?"

"No, wrong's not the word," she said, playing with her hands nervously. "Just…unexpected, is all."

"What is it?" he asked. "Have the publishers not been cooperative? I thought I'd taught them to trust your judgement, but I can teach them again happily…"

"It's not the publishers," she replied. She cleared her throat. "Um…you remember on Halloween, we…we…had a rather…pleasant end to the evening?"

"I remember it very well," he said, grinning. "I'm sure we can have a repeat performance if you'd like…"

"Well, that's not necessary," she interrupted. "Because the aim of the act has already been accomplished. I'm…pregnant, Jonathan."

He stared at her. "What…again?" he stammered.

She nodded. "I thought we didn't need to worry about…" stammered Crane. "I mean, I thought you weren't meant to be…fertile again for some time?"

"So did I," retorted Emilia. "But apparently one or both of us is particularly sexually potent. And personally I think it's my gorgeous Professor," she whispered, kissing him. "You're not upset, are you?" she asked, hesitantly, drawing away from his stunned face.

"Upset?" he repeated. "That I've fathered another of your perfect children? No, I'm elated, my angel!" he gasped, embracing her. "Are you upset?"

"No," she replied, beaming. "I'm terribly happy about it, actually. I mean, the birthing process wasn't a huge amount of fun the first time around, but at least I'm used to it now."

She grinned. "I just can't wait to tell my football player lover the good news."

"You joke about that one more time, and I'm telling the publishers to reject your book again," he snapped.

"Don't be ridiculous, Jonathan," she retorted. "As if any pathetic football player could bend the laws of nature like my precious Professor," she added, kissing him.

"Oh, I love you, my beautiful wife," he murmured.

"And I you, my incredible husband," she whispered.

They suddenly heard a crash from the other room, and Lenore squawking. "Way to go, kiddies! It's like I always say – it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt, then it's hilarious!"

"Joker, what on earth are you doing?" demanded Crane, emerging from the kitchen.

"Just teaching the kiddies about clay pigeon shooting," said Joker, shrugging and holding a smoking gun. Lenore flew over to Crane, hiding behind him and screeching at Joker.

"With my live raven?" demanded Crane. "He didn't hurt you, did he, my precious?" he cooed, petting the raven who was thankfully unhurt.

Harley was cooing over Katrina, gazing at her adoringly. "Mr. J, do you think we might consider having another baby sometime?" she asked, hopefully.

"Absolutely not," retorted Joker. "Ain't the kiddy winks enough of a handful already?"

"I just miss having a baby around," sighed Harley, kissing Katrina. Emilia took the baby back from her, smiling.

"Well, you're welcome to help take care of Katrina anytime, Harley, since we're going to have our hands very full very soon," she said.

"Oh yeah?" asked Harley.

"Yes," said Emilia, smiling at Crane. "I'm pregnant again."

"Again?" repeated Harley. "I didn't know that could happen that fast!"

"Apparently it's very unusual – it only happens to particularly fertile couples," said Emilia, beaming.

"Well, congratulations to both of you!" said Harley, sincerely.

"Yeah, congrats, Johnny!" chuckled Joker. "You got yet another screaming bundle of crap and vomit on the way – way to go!"

"I'm really looking forward to our second child, actually," retorted Crane. "As I was to our first."

"Good for you, Johnny," said Harley, nodding. "At least he's excited. Some men had to have their arm twisted to have even one kiddy!" she snapped, rounding on Joker. "Why can't you be more supportive of my desires, huh, Mr. J?! Johnny's being a good sport about having another baby – why can't you?!"

Joker said nothing. "Johnny, can I see you in private again for a second?" he asked.

"No," retorted Crane. "Just resist the urge to punch me in the face for being a good husband, and work on your relationship instead."

"Don't tell me what to do!" snapped Joker. "Just who the hell do you think you are?!"

"Thankfully not your creator," muttered Crane, taking Katrina from his wife. "Are you ready for a little brother or sister, my love?" he cooed.

"Whether she's ready or not, her little brother or sister is coming," retorted Emilia, taking his hand and placing it over hers on her belly.

"Yes, they are," sighed Crane, embracing his family happily. "I am so very lucky they are."

 **The End**


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